Arc I: The War on Meridian - Issue 1
by UnseenScribe
Summary: REDRAFT. Dark retelling of the W.i.t.c.h. series.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining. A deceitful rain, _fittingly enough_ , that resembled little more than a clear spittle and yet had quickly soaked the humble Lord entirely.

The coastal city bore an icy chill that day – trickles of fresh rainwater tracing the pallid colour of the Lord Cedric's pallid cheeks as he exhaled dense mists out into the night time. He didn't concern himself with whether his companion felt the cold, though subtle changes in throughout the day suggested that Vathek had tired. The volume, for instance, of warm, cloudy breath exuding from Vathek's nostrils had grown considerably from hour to hour. By this time, whence the gloomy skies had darkened to an opal grey, the thug's collumphing heel would lift and drop periodically – causing a sploshing spatter where he obediently remained despite the pooling of water. Lord Cedric had noticed, but offered no sympathy or resolution to the beastly brute's discomfort.

And so they stood, both of them, watching the passers-by slowly dwindle into the array of surrounding shelters. Occasionally coming by in a huddle of interlocking umbrellas or dashing past with a tenacious grasp on the collars and hoods of their tightly fastened rain coats.

The Lord had chosen this place – initially finding shelter beneath one of the many co-ordinated trees lining the sidewalk. But that was hours before… The branches now guided fat, persistent droplets of water onto their sodden shoulders as the icy cold threw a blueish tone over the city of Heatherfield. In fact, Cedric himself felt a nagging soreness along the back of his damp neck which had begun to quietly irk him. That was, at least, until the quiet of the evening was disturbed by a sound of tearing tyres on the wet road.

The wheels of the red station wagon squeaked a little pulling into the roadside. Cedric's thin, colourless lips spread into a smile of satisfaction. "I knew she would come, Vathek."

Vathek's frame stood, stoic. He would not comprehend the occasion he bore witness to on this evening. Lord Cedric breathed anticipation steadily. Watching.

Her sickly figure slid aimlessly from the right of the vehicle. She looked weak and brittle and ignorant. Her thick, uncomely brows furrowed as she looked and took in the street corner, grumbling loudly, " **This** is Heatherfield?"

The vessel's mother answered in a trill voice that's words escaped Cedric's ears. He only briefly acknowledged the tall woman with his gaze – as she popped the trunk open, eagerly thrusting boxes from within it to her daughter.

"She detests this city, but she'll survive." Cedric's gaze followed the boxes' contents: it spilled out from the fragile cardboard onto the asphalt and her mother's laugh bounced merrily off the wall of every building like a sweet chime. Cedric released a humoured breath. "It will be a pleasure to destroy her."


	2. Chapter 2

" _Aaagh!_ " Will jolted forward, only to be yanked back and feel dread spread over her as she realised she was restrained. A tight, binding strap choked her slight chest; gripping her with more determination the harder Will resisted. Scrabbling for it with her clumsy hands, Will wrestled in the darkness…

"Will! Wake up!" Will's murky brown eyes flew open, responding to her mother's command with mild alarm. Flushing, Will let the seatbelt throw her back against the car seat – realising it was all that had imprisoned her. To her side, Susan snickered, with the morning sunlight catching the woman's bronze hoop earing. "Did you have a bad dream, honey?"

"There…" Will paled, clutching her forehead and dragging her fingers through knotty red tresses. She tried to recall the slipping scenes she'd been dreaming. "Was… A terrible storm…"

"Well," The last of Will's memories were driven away by a firm hand on her shoulder and her mother beamed, peering out through the windshield. "The sun is shining on a new day in Heatherfield! Even the clouds have disappeared!"

"For everyone except me." Will pouted, rolling her eyes at the picturesque seaside city. She folded her arms, sinking into her seat. "Stupid alarm! If I'm late, it's all thanks to that alarm!"

Will fumed as her mother chuckled. Stealing a glance at Will's bitter look, Susan's hazel eyes rolled. "Okay, I'll admit… Our day staring out like this doesn't really give Heatherfield a great first impression, but I'm sure things will change when we get there!"

"It's my first day of school, mom. _There_ is school!"

Will grimaced at the cheerful snort from her mother. "Okay, let's say the day after will be better!"

"I can already hear what my teacher will say!" Will heaved a sigh, leaning down to fish under the dashboard for her backpack. She scooped it up, mimicking a stern tone, scolding demonstratively into the car. " _We're off to a bad start, Miss Vandom!_ "

Will shyly smirked as her mother cackled, somehow looking classy with her earrings jangling and her long hair falling about as she threw her head back laughing. "Let me know if he says that, will you?"

The car pulled in at that moment – the rest of the new city suddenly behind them as Will looked her near-future in the eye bleakly. Will toppled out of the old car. Her shoulders rose and fell in time with a deep breath as the wagon rolled away from the sidewalk… her eyes glazing the proud walls of 'Sheffield Institute' and the pompous green sign titling the building. They lingered and locked momentarily on the great clock, reading eight-o-nine exac- "Shit!"

Will shot through the archway entrance, clambering through the heavy doors and jumping when they slammed shut behind her. Her sneakers clomped and squeaked against the shiny corridor floors; her fingers digging into her denim pockets for her schedule as she looked for some sort of sign… Maybe an arrow…

Unfurling the already ragged-edged paper she'd retrieved, Will blinked at her agenda. It looked like a haphazard list of numbers in margins. She traced her best guess at Friday's classes with the tip of her finger, concluding… _304_. Will scowled. There was no way of knowing what subject room 304 would be. She spun around, searching for a hint.

Will growled, throwing her arms into the dead air. "What does a girl have to do to get to room 304?!"

" _Hope to get promoted out of 303?_ " Will seized. The flat voice had come from behind her. The redhead turned, blinking at the dark-skinned girl peering at Will over perfectly round-rimmed glasses. This girl looked young, but cooly indifferent to the fact that classes had started. Will found herself staring down at the girl's brightly patterned cloth bag, which had warm tones that clashed, but somehow went with her thick orange sweater. The girl's knowing voice broke Will out of her stupor, "Two days ago, I probably had the same look on my face as you… I'm new too."

"Oh." Will said. She stood dumbly, self consciously grasping the strap of her bag – a plush frog dangling limply by her fingers. "I'm Will."

The girl smiled and Will felt her cagey muscles relaxing. "I'm-"

" **Would you please explain what you're doing in my hallway?!** "

"It's the principle!" The girl hissed. She'd tensed up, smiling and gritting her teeth as she blinked to a presence behind Will politely. "Mrs Knickerbocker!"

" **Lessons have begun, Miss cook! Straight to class!** " The rather large, older woman's voice was syrupy and grating. Will jumped as her nose was almost grazed by a pointing plump finger. She traced it back to a round, infuriated woman in a suit with glistening white, pearly hair piled high up on her head. Her beady eyes flit from one girl to the other, " **And as for you!** "

Will swallowed as the woman turned, her piling hair following shortly after, and did her very best to smile at the principle. Will grinned uncertainly, frantically pushing at her abundance of cowlicks and thrusting out a hand for Mrs Knickerbocker to shake. "M-my name's Will Vandom, Ma'am! I think I'm a bit lost!"

"Ah… Wilhelmina." Will grin contorted. "Well, Miss Vandom, we are off to a bad start!"

With that, Will slumped, shrinking into her backpack.

 **Θ**

"Better late than never, Miss Cook!" Taranee flushed as her teacher called, never glancing up from his open textbook. Professor Collins was relatively new to the school too – _Taranee had heard_ – and had the slightest drawl of a very well educated southern accent. Taranee wasn't sure that she liked him yet… In all her history, Taranee and her teachers had always gotten along, but here she was in History – doing her best to fake a smile at Mr Sarcastic. "Students are always welcome here… Especially on days when there's a pop quiz!"

" **Pop quiz?!** " A brunette girl cried from just ahead of her. Taranee had made a conscious decision to slide into the furthermost chair of the back row. "Yesterday you said there would be a review!"

Taranee had no idea what Professor Collins had said to the class yesterday. She'd pretended to laugh at the six jokes he'd made in the first five minutes, then found herself for the first time in her life during lessons…not listening. Taranee vowed it would never happen again, looking earnestly to the front of the class as Collins mimicked a villainous laugh, sneering evilly. "I lied!"

"This is just plain cruel!" Irma said. Taranee could remember now. It was October 30 yesterday, as dictated in her notebook, and she'd decided to consciously ignore him in favour of the text book when he'd revealed a set of plastic fangs and declared that for that day they'd explore the history of the vampire. She did not _vant_ to hear that review. "It's completely unfair!"

By now the poor brunette who had spoken had the professor leaning over her, "You should know by now, Irma, that History teachers are cruel by nature!"

He turned away and Taranee's hand flew to her mouth to conceal a grin as Irma muttered, "And boring…"

"Hm?"

Beside Irma, Taranee wondered how she'd missed the Asian girl sat beside her. In yellow swimming-goggles, worn as a headband, and a bright pink and green t-shirt, this girl jumped up to cover for Irma. She chirped, "I thought that was only math teachers!"

Mr Collins' strawberry-blonde moustache bristled as Irma slumped behind crossed arms, but instead of pushing he continued making his way to the top of the classroom. "As I was saying…"

"Why so upset?!" The kooky girl trilled, tilting her head from side to side as she looked down at her friend, Irma. "Didn't you do your homework?!"

Irma sank further. "Don't you play dumb with me, Hay lin. We both know I didn't study at all! All I know is a little about Charles the Great from when you were off playing hooky with your Grandma!"

"My grandma is sick, Irma!" Hay Lin said, smacking Irma's shoulder, but with a giggle.

Irma bat her friend away, "I had nothing to do that day except pay attention!"

"Doesn't your magic work anymore?" Hay Lin chimed. Taranee's eyebrows knit together, confused, as without any reaction Hay Lin nudged the dead weigh beside her, "You know… _rigging the quizzes_!"

"!" Taranee gasped before she could stop herself and found the girls' two sets of eyes suddenly on her. With no choice, but to pursue explanation, Taranee whispered. "D-did you say…' _rigging the quizzes_ '?!"

"She didn't say anything!" Irma hissed, throwing a thumb aggressively in Hay Lin's direction, "She just likes the sound of her own voice!"

"Actu-mmpfh!" Hay Lin began, but Irma thrust her hand over the girl's mouth.

Hay Lin wrestled Irma's grasp, clawing at her friend's hand unsuccessfully and Taranee flushed as she realised that they were drawing an excessive amount of attention. Collins turned, "What's going on back there?!"

" **YEOW!** " Irma yelped. She wrenched her hand away from Hay Lin and threw it in the air, showing Taranee and the class a distinct set of teeth marks! "Hay Lin **bit me**!"

Collins' pulled a face and then smiled, "That looks like a raised hand! Congratulations Irma, I needed a volunteer!"

"B-b-but…." Irma stood up. Taranee found herself doing her best to look like she wasn't associated with any of this madness. "That's not fair!"

 **Θ**

Will had been sat uncomfortably close to the front of her new Mathematics classroom. Briefly, Will had considered leaving, but fleeing was near-impossible from her current position. She didn't like the way this day was looking. "Will!"

Will blinked, forcing a grin at the blonde-bobbed woman at the head of the classroom. There was a kid staring at Will irritatingly from beside her. Will smiled at the teacher, who looked kindly from square, rose-tinted glasses that didn't fit her round face. "Ma'am?"

"Will, would you like to partake in our discussion?"

"Sorry, Ma'am." Will said, scratching her head and looking past Mrs Rudolph at the blackboard. It was all a haze of strange symbols and numbers. "I didn't hear what you said actually. I… I wasn't listening."

"That's precisely why I asked you." The woman said, ignoring the chitter of laughter from the rest of the classroom. Will frowned, failing to understand why she had to be singled out like this. Her teacher stood, studying Will with an expression that seemed stern, but Will swore bore a touch of amusement. "You must be very talented numerically, considering that you can afford not to listen!"

Will flushed, "That's not what I-"

"It was Ruffini's theorem, that we were reviewing." The woman said, her voice rising to overpower Will's words calmly. Will swallowed as Mrs Rudolph stared pointedly at her. "Would you like to complete the lesson, Wilhelmina, considering you are an expert?"

Will's lips formed a tight line as the woman turned to her desk, with the chatter behind Will making her confident that her full name would be remembered. " _With pleasure_."

Without a moment of thought, Will had stumbled forward. She looked longingly back at her desk as the old broad smirked and sat down, annunciating animatedly: " **Ruffini** , Will. Binomials; polynomials… 'x squared'."

"Of course!" Will bluffed, turning to the board so that her eyes could bulge uncomprehendingly as she reached for the chalk, mouthing curse words. Will blinked. She was almost certain that this was mathematics. That meant numbers. X-squared?! X wasn't a number! Squared? Will visualised putting the letter X into a box and briefly remembered Schrödinger. She turned to Mrs Rudolph, "Is X a cat?"

The class snickered, but Will did her best to only smile hopefully at Mrs Rudolph. "Miss Vandom, we are off to a bad start."

Will nodded. Every school. Every time. Every teacher.


End file.
